The Armor

Isaiah and I have been learning about the knights of the past (learned some things I didn’t know) in our Classical Conversations classes.

I have been thinking of those brave knights and all the armor they wear to protect themselves.

I’m no knight, but I sure wear armor. Most of us have our own brand of armor. Mine may look different than yours, and I may wear mine for different reasons, but I bet you have some tucked away for those moments when you feel you need it.

It’s hard to always be brave! Moms have to be brave a lot (dads too, but since I’m a mom…), even when they can barely stand.

That’s where the armor comes in. We put it on to protect ourselves long enough to protect our families. It’s like putting the oxygen mask on yourself first, and only then can you help others. It seems unnatural to place it on yourself first when your very heart is outside your body (in the bodies of your children)! Without it, you can’t do anything for them.

So there it is – the armor. Protecting your heart from the hard of the pain and difficulties that will inevitably come to all of us in this world. The daggers that seem to come at you without warning, the spears that are thrust without thought or care. The words that spew like a volcanic eruption that cut to the very marrow — Words that can never be taken back!

The armor is there to hold you up through the battlefield that is this life – but then it has to come off, and you are left melting into a puddle of grief, loss, and brokenness. Your goal is to keep it on long enough to shield your children and loved ones from as much of the pain as you can.

Sadly, my armor doesn’t always work. There is always that one little spot that’s exposed, ripe for the injury.

Hurt people, hurt people! Most of us have experienced hurt of some kind (some more than others). That leaves us all in a vulnerable place. Hearts will break and hard will happen.

Since my imaginary armor can’t protect me, I’m thankful for the One who is always with me and never leaves me. He is my shield and my fortress. On my own, I can’t get that armor on quickly enough. I need Him to guide me through the devastation and heartache. He loves me (He is my Father) and keeps me.

I have to give my children and family to Him because I can’t be as strong as I want to be … I can’t protect them from all harm. This isn’t easy! My flesh wants to jump in and shield them, hide them, and keep them in a protective bubble.

That’s not possible!

But God!

He sent His Son to die because He loves us so much. That’s so hard to comprehend! He loves us that much. When I see I’ve been relying on my own armor too much, I have to take a step back and hit my knees. I have to relinquish my hold, my desires, and my hopes because they are but dust. His plan is always better – I don’t always understand it, but I know His ways are higher than my ways.

My armor has a lot of chinks in it. It’s ravaged, beaten, and rusty. I’ve tried to wear it when I had no business thinking I was in control (I’m never in control)! I’m a sinner saved by grace and I still catch myself trying to keep us all safe from all harm — full armor on board.

It’s far too heavy for me. I quickly realize what I need to do and quietly (okay, sometimes screaming and crying) remove it and place my trust where it belongs.

He always receives me with open arms!

How about you? Do you live under the heavy burden of armor you were never meant to wear? Do you, like me, try to do a job that only He can do?